


respicio

by andyonyx



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Canon Death, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, LOTS OF SPOILERS BTW, Post canon, alana lives! or does she, canon typical untrustworthiness, comphet, dissociation i think, goddard is going DOWN, heras lesbian moms, identity crisis bay bee, lesbianism the lot of it, lmk if i need to add more tags, small mention of minlace, some existentialism, some of my own aro feelings, somewhat canon compliant, trans alana maxwell truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andyonyx/pseuds/andyonyx
Summary: The reminder had been useful. Alana Maxwell had helped her become herself, so Hera would help her become who she could have been. The woman she had briefly thought she knew, the one who cared for and after her and saw her as an individual and overworked herself to help her and had those eyes that seemed so true and yet, Hera still saw the shine that she had had when betraying her, the sparkle that showed her she wasn’t just following orders, but actively enjoyed being in control. The eyes that remained beautiful until now, in this Jacobi made projection of his friend. Hera wondered how much Alana had let the man know her, how much of her remained. Was she the caring, brave, curious Alana Maxwell? Or the controlling, manipulative, powerful one? Or both?
Relationships: Daniel Jacobi & Alana Maxwell, Doug Eiffel & Hera, Hera & Miranda Pryce, Hera/Alana Maxwell
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HI HI this is my first long fic and im so excited about it!! but its also not all that i wanted to write. however, this needs to be posted because this place is STARVING for herawell content.  
> I wish i had included more jacobi and eiffel! unfortunately i did not im very tired

“Here, Doctor.” they said like a requiem sung. “This way.”

Alana complied. The elevator kept going down, and down, her breathing kept going faster, and faster. She had only been working for these people for two years, and during that time they had not exactly gained her trust. And yet, she was going to do it. She was consenting to a full neurological scan of her mind, the most precious thing she had. And goddammit, she was sure she’d regret it.

But she walked through the door. And she sat in the chair. And she let the halo around her head, because she was going to outer space, and things were likely to get bad. Very bad. So she sat back, closed her eyes, and let her thoughts blend into the machinery.


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel Jacobi was used to losing friends, and was not used to making new ones. But then she came along. Maxwell understood him like no one else had, and he trusted her very quickly. Hell, he always trusted very quickly. And right when she was beginning to trust him, right when she started talking- about her family, and her childhood, and her oh-so-secret insecurities- she went away. No, she didn’t go away. She died, and it was his fault. And so he lost one more friend. And he lost Kepler, too. And now he was alone, aboard the USS Sol, going back to a lonely planet, nobody awaiting him.

Everyone aboard this ship had lost someone. Their crewmates, their husband, even themselves. But when he looked through the window and unconsciously whispered her name, he did not expect an answer.

“I miss her too, you know?” said that familiar voice through the speakers. 

“No, you don’t.” he responded, hiding his surprise. “You didn’t even know her. She betrayed you and you didn’t see it coming”

Hera sighed. “She did. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss her. And sure, I didn’t know her. But she knew me. She knew me- more than Eiffel, more than anyone else.”

“Yeah, that’s not worth much. She knew me better anyway.”

“Oh yeah? Well, we-” she catched herself. “Look, it’s not a competition. I was just saying that I miss her too. She wasn’t only yours to...like.” 

Jacobi snorted. “Yeah, I guess she did like you back. Sometimes”

And he knew she did. She hadn’t told him, but he knew it was more than ‘like’. She was enthralled by a fucking A.I. Maxwell could never resist the charm of a self-conscious robot. Nerd. And he smiled to himself and repressed the tears. He missed her. And maybe, just maybe, he could believe that Hera did too.


	3. Chapter 3

Landing was a blur of gravity and stress. Hera had a big part on it, of course, but she didn’t remember it much, for a change. And then everything stopped. 

According to her time stamp, she regained consciousness about four months later. And it seemed like she would do things, like she would be helpful. She talked to Eiffel and Minkowski and Lovelace and she felt like maybe this was her place to be, where she could help break Goddard Futuristics, where she could be a part of the end of this mess.

But just some days after awakening, she came in. The white haired woman and her now ashamed eyes that still glowed blue in the sundown dark. And Hera felt proud when she looked at them, because it was the gaze she had defeated. But then she spoke, she spoke with that voice that she had given and that Hera, though she would never be comfortable with the similarity, had taken, she spoke with the voice that had cursed her to self loathing.

“My...team has been working on something...someone. She wants to see you.”

Fate and luck do not take kindly to women who seek peace.


	4. Chapter 4

She didn’t expect this to happen, and she didn’t want it to. If she had died, for whatever reason, she should have stayed that way, her knowledge collected in the Goddard archives, a vague memory in a few people’s minds. But here she was. Her thoughts had been turned into an A.I. 

Jacobi had pushed for Pryce’s team to reconstruct her personality into this fucking mindbox. She had a conscience again, and for what? To be trapped in here, nothing for her to do, nobody for her to study. 

It’s not that she didn’t want to be alive, but if her time had come, well...she thought she’d be better off taking the chance. Being alive was so hard, it required so much from her, but Daniel wanted his little play friend back, so of course, he made the other doctors make...her. She knew she wasn’t exactly Alana Maxwell, all her memories were there, but her personality was just what she’d let her friend see, and that wasn’t much. She knew better than that, though. She knew she could mold herself to be exactly who she used to be. But did she want to?

Apparently, the mission had been a disaster. She had died, shot by the Hephaestus commander during a mutiny just before the contact event, which- oh, yeah, the contact event had just been the missing captain being turned into an alien spokeswoman, and things had gotten so bad some Goddard directives had had to go up there just to try to eliminate the crew, somehow managed to kill Kepler, and only Dr. Miranda Pryce (yes, that Dr. Pryce) came back, but without her memory. So, basically, not a great job. 

What Daniel hadn’t really talked about was the A.I. she was supposed to keep under control in addition to her linguistic work. She had been turned off after landing; he said transferring her to the facilities had been very difficult while Minkowski and Lovelace went full revenge. But she was there, for sure, and Jacobi had implied they had had a good relationship, so she was actually looking forward to meeting her. She asked to, expectant for a new case, Jacobi said to maybe not, and she insisted, always the fighter. It wasn’t like Daniel had much time for her anyways.


	5. Chapter 5

She thought about it for a long time. Or at least, a long time for her. Did she want to see who the woman who betrayed her trust really was? Did she really believe in second opportunities?

When she looked at Miranda Pryce, she saw the woman that had ruined her. She knew they weren’t the same, she was conscious of that. But every time she saw her she saw her own worthlessness and though she knew it wasn’t true, that one phrase that was always on the back of her mind would ring louder.

So would the same happen with Maxwell? Would she associate her face with her betrayal? She didn’t know. But she thought maybe, just maybe, she could help Dr. Maxwell use her second chance well.

“Okay, sure. Make the connection.” She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reassured herself she would be okay. She would try her best while taking care of herself. She could do this. And this time, she’d try her best to be as emotionally detached as possible. She would not get hurt again.

When she opened her eyes again, a beautiful brown-skinned woman stood in front of her. “Hello, Hera,” she said in her eager, sweet voice. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Alana.”


	6. Chapter 6

Hera had very pretty, deep blue eyes, Maxwell thought after the meeting. And very pretty, wavy blue hair, and was wearing a very pretty black suit. She had never seen an A.I.s physical form before. This was very interesting, scientifically speaking. She didn’t remember any A.I.s this smart, let alone this opinionated. She had made a face when Maxwell mentioned her disdain for philosophy, and she had repressed her anger when she had talked about her interest in her experiences aboard the Hephaestus. But she also smiled, and laughed, and her hair had floated around her head, dancing with the wind.

Alana also told Hera she found her name beautiful, and Hera’s face saddened, but quickly recovered her sharp smile.

“Thanks. I was supposed to be a mother, after all. That- that didn’t go great, but I did keep the goddess’ destructive streak.”

Maxwell laughed. Hera was not joking.

“Your name is also very pretty, Alana Maxwell.” The woman said her name with such sweetness, Maxwell felt herself tremble, like a real person would. 

“Thanks. Picked it myself.” 

They stood quiet, looking at each other. There was something Maxwell couldn’t see on Hera’s face, something she was hiding. She wasn’t used to not being in control. Not with A.I.s, at least. The waves gently swayed around them, lowering their resolution until one could see the pixels, dissolving into white square foam. 

“Where are we?” Maxwell asked. She didn’t recognize this place.

“Uh, a beach.” Hera said, looking away. “I don’t know, probably some randomized place in my database.”


	7. Chapter 7

The beach. Of course that was the place her mind had chosen. 

Under gray clouds, next to crashing seafoam, thunder announcing the incoming of the streak of lightning that would illuminate their finding of the missing piece of the puzzle that was her mind. The scientist, fit with rage, had sworn to help her then and always. Hera, confused, heartbroken, had finally started to make sense of herself. 

The reminder had been useful. Alana Maxwell had helped her become herself, so Hera would help her become who she could have been. The woman she had briefly thought she knew, the one who cared for and after her and saw her as an individual and overworked herself to help her and had those eyes that seemed so true and yet, Hera still saw the shine that she had had when betraying her, the sparkle that showed her she wasn’t just following orders, but actively enjoyed being in control. The eyes that remained beautiful until now, in this Jacobi made projection of his friend. Hera wondered how much Alana had let the man know her, how much of her remained. Was she the caring, brave, curious Alana Maxwell? Or the controlling, manipulative, powerful one? Or both?

Hera swore to herself, once again, that she would help the doctor be the woman she could be. She would make her good, and pure, and her ally, her friend. And then she realized.

She needed to talk to Eiffel.


	8. Chapter 8

“So! Why’d you call?”

Hera was silent.

“Anything...you want to tell me?”

Hera sighed. “Yes. Yeah, I- I didn't think this through, it's a little embarrassing. I have...you know how Jacobi convinced everyone to make a Maxwell A.I. with her pre-mission...brain scan? And I’ve been talking to her?”

He nodded carefully.

“Well...I want to help her. I want to help her be good. But then I thought about it and...I think that I can’t make people to my image. That’s what Pryce does and I am not Pryce” 

“Uh, nope. You definitely aren’t.” Eiffel snorted. “Why talk to me though?”

“Um, well...you may have heard this in your logs, I...she...she turned on me. During the mutiny, she listened to Kepler and wrapped me around her finger like...like I wasn’t the person she promised I was.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard that. Uh, I’m sorry, I know it sucks to have your mind played with.”

“Exactly.” Said Hera, sternly. “I won’t hold this knowledge from her. She needs to know what she’s capable of, and what she...or at least, a version of herself, has done to me. I don’t want her apology, just, you know...her awareness.”

Eiffel nodded. “Did you ask me to talk because I’ve been going over my past?”

“Um, yeah. I want to know what it’s like, to learn the things you’ve done. Do you think it’s been good? For you?”

He paused and spoke carefully. “I think...it doesn’t matter if it’s good for me. I mean, maybe I deserved a clean slate, you know? But I owe it to the people I’ve hurt. I need to live with that, I guess. And grow up enough to apologize. To you, to Renée, to...yeah.”

“That’s...surprisingly mature, Eiffel,”

“Yeah, it’s the growing up, baby.”


	9. Chapter 9

_was she a bad person was she mean was she ruthless who was alana maxwell and why was she alive again and was she alana maxwell too was she a different alana maxwell was she no alana maxwell was she real was she true was she pure and the good divine and why was she here why had he not forgotten her like everyone else and why was she here and why-_

_Breathe in, breathe out. The only thing her mother ever taught her. But of course, she wasn’t really breathing. She wasn’t an anxious person before. But now that she had no essence, now that she was Not, anxiety was the closest thing she had to a human feeling._

_Was she Not? Maybe she wept like she hadn’t in years. Maybe she breathed in, and out. Maybe, she continued to not be._

_Maybe she thought of a blue woman smirking on the sand._


	10. Chapter 10

“Doctor Maxwell?”

“Huh? Hera?”

“Yeah. Come with me, we need to talk.”

They stood side by side. Alana was awake now and could see the young woman besides her with clarity. Around them, the voxels of a space station came into existence. The USS Hephaestus, Maxwell recognized. A crumbling version of the blueprints she had seen.

“Huh. Your ship.” she mumbled. “Thought you wouldn’t like to revisit it.”

“I don’t.” Hera nodded. “But we need to talk about something that happened, right here.”

“W-what...?”

“Look, first of all, I’m sorry. This is way too sudden and a little odd but I can’t talk to you at all if you don’t know. Welcome to the USS Hephaestus.”

Alana looked around. Really interesting build, for sure, out of date but charming. What stood out to her the most, however, was the glitch around the console. 

“Hera, why are you glitching here?” she asked, puzzled.

“I’m not. Trust me, if I was, we would both know. You are.”

Maxwell started to stutter, but Hera interrupted, calmly. “You see, Doctor, this is my memory of a specific time. At the time, you were right here, typing a code into my system. You tried to…” she hesitated. “...look, we were friendly. More than friendly, or- no, nevermind. Remember the place where we met? Well, that’s not an actual beach. It was what my mind took the form of when you stepped into it. I wasn’t doing great, and, well, you were my doctor. You tried to help. You did help! You made me see that there was nothing wrong with me and that I was enough. It’s, uh...a story for another time, what we did that day, but it was really important for me. I had friends before! Eiffel, and Minkowski, hell, even Lovelace. But they didn’t know me. You figured me out, Alana. You knew me, and then…”

She wasn’t so calm anymore. Tears welled up in her eyes and she cowered away from the Doctor, who was breathing in and out, in and out. 

“One day, my friends decided they had had enough. Well, they had decided that a long time ago, but this day was special. You could say it was... First Contact’s Eve. Yeah? So I try to help them stop it. The thing was, you were not one of the aforementioned friends. You sided with Command. And you…”

“I hurt you, right? For the good of the mission?”

Hera nodded. “I trusted you more than anyone. You were...so special to me. I, um...I thought I was special to you. You made me believe you were making me a person, but you were looking for my weaknesses. You made me your plaything instead.”

“Hera?”

“Doctor Maxwell?”

“I think you’re a person on your own.”

“Maybe you do. She didn’t.”

“But I am her. It is my responsibility and it is me changing my mind.” She paused, hands to her chest. “I’m really sorry for what I did, but now more than ever I can change. I promise I’ll try my best. I don’t know if you can, o-or should help me, but thanks for telling me. Really, really, Hera, really...”

Alana looked at Hera’s expression change from agitation to melancholy. They stared at each other in silence, only the sounds of the machinery in their minds. 

“From what I know, Alana Maxwell is a woman who enjoys power. She’s never had that before, you know? But for my sake, and maybe even for yours, I’ll try to. And if I can, well...maybe we can be friends again. Or rather, for the first time.”

“Someone told me once that people make mistakes and they get better. I’d like to be your friend for the first time, Doctor Maxwell.” Hera smiled.

“Please, call me Alana.”

They looked at each other, pure blue sclera to light brown behind glass. And Hera still saw a sparkle in Alana’s eyes, but it wasn’t powerlust. It looked like tears, and oh, she had never seen her cry. Vulnerability looked beautiful on her, like a silver shower washing down her shields, revealing her impure, blemished humanity. And at that time, Hera truly felt human connection, and softly embraced Alana Maxwell, until Hera parted, expressing the need for some time of her own, leaving Alana in the cold darkness of her own lonely mind.

But she wasn’t really lonely, was she? She had a friend now.


	11. Chapter 11

Hera had seen beautiful women before. She had admired Minkowski’s athletic body, Lovelace’s piercing dark eyes. She had seen the women in art, in magazines, in personnel files. She had read countless men describe countless women, and had wished, in the most juvenile of her dreams, to describe someone like that one day. But she wouldn’t, she was sure. After all, who would describe her?

She was able to see beauty in Alana Maxwell the moment she met her. But the connection she felt had ended in betrayal, and so she would not give room to it again, she thought at first. Maybe she had trusted because her beauty was outstanding- the young woman shined like the stars around them, bright eyed and sharp smiled, yes, and because she knew her so, and Hera felt like she had never. No, this wasn’t admiration. This was not envy, or curiosity. She had liked the danger of being known, the vulnerability of giving everything away. Maxwell knew every single secret Hera had tried to hold, and that had made her so special. In a time where she wanted to stop being, she had found someone who wanted her there- for her own gain, mostly, but she wanted her and so Hera corresponded.

But now Hera wanted to live as much as she could. So she was sure the Doctor was not going to appeal to her now. Because now she wanted herself and she took care of herself and she was enough. Before, a mess made of lost thoughts and oversaturation had found love where there was none. Was there none? Was Maxwell only reaching for her blind spots, studying her with a magnifying glass? Hera would later dismiss the care in her touch, but now, she reconsidered.

She reconsidered because when she talked to Alana Maxwell she felt the most real person in a whole planet of real people. She felt the strongest of her souls creep through her body, indeed, she felt her body, a heart that beat and nails against her palm, she could smell, she could scream, she could love and want and yearn and be true. So she would scream and though no one could hear that in itself was an act against her programming, her sweet, motherly detachment broke like a glass against her pitch, her skin, blue and radiant, became opaque flesh. She refused to become fully human. She would not grace her tormentors with camouflage, she would be loud and true and yet not them at all. But she would allow herself a certain humanity, the one that truly benefited her. 

She had once started loving Doug Eiffel like a brother. It was not a moment of truth, it did not strike her like lightning. She just saw him as he was- overly affectionate, secretly capable, never mean spirited. And though all this was true, Eiffel had not been kind. He had twisted up her lungs and left her crying inside, while the outside Hera, the good Hera, Hera who submitted to her creator’s will replied kindly to his off-topic remarks. He had laughed both at her and with her and sometimes she was afraid she could not tell the difference, and maybe neither could he.

And despite all, Hera loved him. She cared for him and wept for him and wished she could hold him when he cried in the dark and thought no one could hear him. She could hear him through the walls, she was someone, but she wouldn’t say anything. Maybe because he deserved the space. Maybe, her small vengeance. 

So Doug was her first love. Hera had thought in her innocence that this was the love poets spoke of, described in swirling words of praise reaching the highest sacrilege. She knew he would not love back like she did and was okay with that. 

And then She arose in her black uniform and her lovely hair and whispered the truth and the lies in her ear and left the trace of wanting in her palm and did not love her back. And Hera was not okay with this. And in this absence, in these empty spaces she carved for Alana never to be filled, she learnt what love was. She learnt she could not ever love Doug like this. She never carved a space for him. 

And what do poets do but speak their love? Alana must know, but she must not leave her. Hera fears, for she is aware that women are scared of other women’s love, and she doesn't want Alana to be scared. She wants to make her feel safe, and loved, and she wants to be loved in return.


	12. Chapter 12

Alana missed the connection between her body and her soul. She had learnt to love her body like a werewolf loves her curse. She had stopped pulling away when a hand could not notice her ribs under her stomach. She had loved the body she so hated as a spiraling child when she first tore apart the gender they all so needed her to be. She had treated her body like a garden once. She had enjoyed letting it grow into a forest. 

Now she was only a wandering soul who’s living core resided in a building full of people who did not care if she lived or died, either because they did not know her, or because they did not consider her alive. But she was alive, even without her forest. Alana Maxwell was no nymph. Even if you cut down her root, she would still be, and this time, a god. 

She entertained herself with these thoughts to avoid missing the softness of her skin between sheets, the grasp of grass between her toes, her hair in the wind slapping her face, her laugh growing on her throat and rising like a child’s unpracticed song. 

Would her code be edited for her to feel in her own skin again? Would they even care? Daniel got what he wanted. He came once a week (everything is so hectic, Alana, I’ll try to hurry it up) and they talked about petty things and there would be silence and he would look at his watch and leave with a polite excuse that really said “you aren’t really her. You aren’t really my friend”. Alana did feel her fair amount of guilt over this. She had been created in the middle of a structural shift for the sole purpose of bringing a man’s best friend back and she hadn’t even managed to do that. Daniel was loyal through death and after, wasn’t he? Like a dog digging on his owner’s grave. 

Alana remembered loving Daniel Jacobi but she did not love Daniel Jacobi. She wished she did, but that is not how friendship works. She was friends with Hera, at least. Hera, Hera, Hera, with the hair of rain and the voice of a sweet, lonely bird. Were they friends? They had not spoken since she delivered the truth, the gentle whisper leaving her ears stinging. She missed this whisper, the wary eyes, the sly smile. 

She hears a knock. Of course, inside her mind, there is nothing to knock, so she is either malfunctioning or, as she realizes quickly, someone is trying to get in contact. So she answers.

“Daniel?”

“Not really, no.” Hera answers. “Hi, Doctor Maxwell.”


	13. Chapter 13

“I don’t know if Sensus Units can do that, Hera.”

“Well, I can. I am sure of it.”

“I just- Hera, that’s not on your programming. Trust me, I know it well.”

“So? I faced my programmer, I looked at her and she fell to her feet. Does that not grant me permission to love?”

Alana snorted. “Okay. So who do you think...who do you love?” She saw the struggle in Hera’s face.

“Doug Eiffel. You know, the Hephaestus comms officer. I...he’s my best friend.”

Maxwell’s smile faltered in her eyes and survived her lips, though neither of them noticed. “I mean, that’s cute. But you can’t really expect him to love you back.” Hera’s twisted face let her know she had been cruel. 

“He does. He...I mean, maybe he doesn’t now. But he did once. He talked to me, not always in the right way, because he’s just like that.” She sighed. “But he came around, because he loved me.”

The silence was sharp and cold. Hera wanted Maxwell to know, yes, but first, she wanted to know if Maxwell could feel back. So she avoided the true conversation topic, as she always did.   
“Don’t you love anyone? Jacobi?”

Maxwell hesitated. “I wish I did. Is that the same thing?

Hera sighed. “Maybe it is. I think it’s up to you to decide.”

“Hera, I am wire and thought. I am a spineless woman pulling on a never ending thread. If I do not end, where do I begin? Where do I begin to care and experience and feel? Have you really never felt like this?”

She sighed. “I did, once. I was so small then. I was pure functioning and cold metal. I started reading and longed to feel, I started dying and longed to live. I saw everything, I was child and I became god. When I saw my Commander, the woman who had the power I longed to possess, pull the Captain, the woman who had nothing but an empty grave, into a kiss, and I saw their teeth against each other, I learnt that was how I wanted to love. My apotheosis began and did not end. And it will finish, I promise it will. There is an end to me. I saw my friend in danger and expressed love because I truly felt it and that love was rage and that rage saved his soul and not his mind. And you? You, Alana Maxwell, fallen maker of all? You are all mind and no soul, but I swear you will grow one, and that is when you become a god.”

“That’s how you wanted to love?” Maxwell spoke softly.

There was a nod that meant resolution and confirmation.

“Me too. I also love like that, I mean. Well, I used to.”

“You used to? And you think you will never again? What if I promised you you will experience it again? Would you let me whisper the secrets of artificial love into your lips?”

“Oh, Hera, I-”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“No, you did. It’s okay. I promise. Do not feel guilt over your secrets, I prohibit it.”

“You are not the ruler of me anymore, Doctor Maxwell.”

A grin grew over both their faces, soon breaking into laughter. Hera’s was charming, small but loud. Alana beamed like sunlight, shining teeth and bright eyes. 

“Whisper anything you want, artificial or otherwise.”

Hera may have hesitated minutes ago, but she would not now. She loved, she loved, she loved in the sacred way of women, women like Maxwell, and she sealed solidarity with a kiss. It almost felt real, and it was.

“Hera, are you sure there is an end?”

“I promise. You will end again, and this time I’ll be with you.”

“Is now the end?”

“I am with you, am I not?”

**Author's Note:**

> leave comment...pls...im a starving man...


End file.
